


The Butterfly Project

by hybridempress



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Depression, FACE Family, Other, Self-Harm, The Butterfly Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybridempress/pseuds/hybridempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone assumes Francis Bonnefoy is exactly the flirtatious, flamboyant, happy-go-lucky man that he always appears to be. No one, not even his younger brothers, have any idea about the depression he's battling every day. When Arthur finds out that Francis has been self-harming, he has to explain to young Alfred and Matthew what is going on, and together they devise an idea to get Francis to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Butterfly Project

    Francis stared down at his shaking, bloody arms. Tears fell slowly from his eyes and into his bathroom sink, only to mix with the blood that was already in the sink, and the blood that was dripping down his arms and into the sink. His breathing was slow and shaky and his heart was pounding in his chest so hard that he felt as if it might burst.  
  
    In his right hand, he held a bloody razor blade. The cuts that littered his arms matched the shape of the razor perfectly. The sink and the counter, as well as parts of the floor, were covered in the blood that had been pouring from his arms. The bleeding didn't look like it would stop anytime soon.  
  
    Francis raised his shaking hand to his other arm, getting ready once again to drag the razor down and make another cut, when suddenly, he heard a voice outside of his bedroom. Shocked, he dropped the razor in the sink.  
  
    "Francis, I thought you were making dinner tonight. It's seven o'clock and you've been in your room since you got home from work. What's going on?" Arthur demanded from the hall. Francis could tell that Arthur was standing right outside of his bedroom. Francis realized with horror that he couldn't remember whether he'd locked the door or not.  
  
    "Francis, I don't take kindly to being ignored, thank you. I would ask you to please open the door, or I'll open it myself," Arthur threatened. Francis didn't dare to move, nor did he speak, for fear that his voice would betray him.  
  
    "Fine, have it your way, Francis. I'm coming in," Arthur declared. Francis had no time to shut and lock the bathroom door before Arthur walked into the room.  
  
    When Arthur saw Francis, his annoyed face quickly turned into one of horror and shock. His eyes widened and started watering. His mouth dropped open and he let out a terrified half-gasp, half-scream. Francis refused to meet Arthur's eyes.  
  
    "Francis!! What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Arthur shrieked.   
  
    He ran over to Francis and grabbed his arms, bringing them close to his face to examine the damage that Francis had caused to himself. Francis winced from the pain and turned his face away from Arthur. Arthur dropped Francis' arms and stared at his older brother incredulously. He reached his hand up to touch Francis' cheek, forcing his older brother to turn his head and look at him.  
  
    "Francis... Wh-what happened...? Wh-why...? Why... Would you do this to yourself...?" Arthur asked quietly as tears started pouring from his emerald eyes. Francis didn't answer.  
  
    Arthur grabbed Francis' shoulders gently and led him to the bed. Arthur forced Francis to sit down on the bed and then sat down next to him. Francis tried to look away again, but Arthur held his face and forced his older brother to look at him.   
  
    "Francis. Tell me why you did this to yourself. Tell me  _now_ ," Arthur commanded, trying to keep his voice from shaking.  
  
    "I don't want to be here anymore. I don't  _deserve_  to be here anymore," Francis answered quietly. Arthur just stared at him.  
  
    "What do you mean you don't  _deserve_  to be here!? What do you mean you don't  _want_  to be here!?" he asked incredulously.   
  
    "I can't stand it anymore, Arthur... I can't," Francis muttered.  
  
    "Can't stand  _what??_ " Arthur questioned.  
  
    "Anything! I can't stand anything anymore! All you and I ever do is fight! You can only ever tell me how much you hate me. I can't be a good big brother for you and Matthew and Alfred. I'm always letting them down. We never have enough money to spoil them like I want to or take them to do something fun, and that's because I can't find a job that pays well enough to take care of everything we need and still have money leftover to do something fun with. Nobody wants to date me or spend any time around me because they all think I'm some sick, heartless, perverted playboy, or worse. I've been called worse. Everyone would be better off if I wasn't here," Francis explained dejectedly. Arthur grabbed his shoulders again and started shaking him.  
  
    "Stop it, Francis! You're scaring me! You can't say that!" he commanded.   
  
    "But it's true," Francis argued.  
  
    "No it's not! It's not true! None of it! Francis, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that we fight all the time and that I always tell you that I hate you... But I promise it's not true! I swear on my life, I don't hate you, I love you! You're my older brother! I could  _never_  hate you! And you're a wonderful older brother, for all of us! Probably the best older brother there ever was! Alfred and Matthew don't care that we can't spoil them. They have enough toys to play with, and all that matters to them is that we're all together. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have any money at all, because I don't have a job yet, remember? Anyone who says those horrible things doesn't know what the bloody hell they're talking about, do you understand me!? I know you better than that! I know you'd never ever try to hurt anyone! If you left me, if you left  _us_ , we'd never be able to get over it, do you understand?? We'd be  _miserable_  without you!" Arthur exclaimed desperately.   
  
    "Do you... Do you really mean that...? Or are you just saying that...?" Francis inquired.  
  
    "Of course I mean it, Francis! Why would I say it if I didn't mean it? If I really hated you and wanted you dead, I wouldn't be trying to comfort you! I wouldn't care! But I do! Francis, you mean the world to me, and you mean the world to Matthew and Alfred, too. We all love you so much. The only way you could ever let us down would be to leave us," Arthur promised.  
  
    Francis didn't say anything. For a long while, there was nothing but silence as the two brothers sat in the room crying together. A few minutes later, Francis and Arthur both heard a flood of small footsteps running across the hall. They could hear Matthew whimpering and Alfred shouting.  
  
    "Hey, Artie! Froggy! Where are you guys?? We're hungry, especially Mattie!" Alfred yelled. Then, the two young boys appeared in the doorway of Francis bedroom. They both gasped in shock when they saw the state that Francis was in. Matthew shrieked, and both boys ran over to the bed and climbed onto it. Matthew crawled over to the right of Francis, and Alfred crawled to the left. They both stared at Francis' arms in complete and utter shock.  
  
    "F-Francis, what happened to your arms?? Why are you bleeding??" Matthew asked desperately, tears streaming down his face.  
  
    "Yeah, Artie, what happened to him? How'd he get hurt?" Alfred questioned. Francis didn't answer. Arthur sighed.  
  
    "B-boys... S-something bad happened... Francis did something very bad... H-he... He cut himself... That's why he's bleeding..." Arthur explained quietly. Alfred and Matthew's eyes widened even more.  
  
    "How did you cut yourself, Francis? Alfie and I didn't see you in the kitchen making dinner so you couldn't have cut yourself with a kitchen knife!" Matthew reasoned.  
  
    "Yeah, how'd that happen? And why weren't you being more careful? You always tell Mattie and me to be careful with sharp things!" Alfred pointed out. Clearly, neither of the boys understood the situation that they were being faced with. Francis was still silent.  
  
    "Boys... F-Francis didn't cut himself on accident... H-he did it on purpose. He  _wanted_  to hurt himself," Arthur told them softly. He wasn't surprised when both of the boys gasped in horror and turned to look at Francis again. Matthew had started crying by this point, and Alfred's eyes were watering.   
  
    "F-Francis, why?? Why would you do that?? Why would you want to hurt yourself?? That's not nice!!" Matthew shrieked.   
  
    "Yeah, what's going on, Francis?? Why would you ever wanna do something stupid like this? Wh-what if you hurt yourself really bad, a-and you... Wh-what if you..." Alfred began, but stopped himself. He couldn't get the rest of the sentence out, and he started crying just like Matthew.  
  
    "Francis cut himself because he's feeling sad, boys... Very,  _very_  sad. He doesn't think that anyone loves him. He thinks that we'd all be happier if he went away," Arthur said. Immediately, both Alfred and Matthew hugged Francis tightly and cried into his shirt.  
  
    "Francis, why would you ever think that?? I love you so much!! We all do!! We'd all be so sad if you went away!! We need you, you're our big brother!!" Matthew wailed.  
  
    "Please don't leave us, Francis! We promise we love you! We'll do anything, please don't go away!" Alfred begged. Arthur smiled softly.  
  
    "See, Francis? Nobody wants you to go anywhere. We all want you to stay right here, with us," he whispered.  
  
    "A-Arthur, w-we need to h-help him! W-we need to clean him up!" Matthew stuttered urgently.  
  
    "Yeah, tell us what we can do!" Alfred demanded anxiously.   
  
    "Come here, I'll tell you," Arthur said, motioning for the boys to come closer to him.   
  
    Hesitantly, Alfred let go of Francis, and then Matthew, and they crawled over to Arthur. He pulled them close to him and whispered something to them that Francis couldn't hear. Curious, Francis raised an eyebrow. Alfred and Matthew looked at each other, and first looking confused, but eventually, they smiled, jumped off of the bed, and ran out of the room together. Arthur stood up, as well.   
  
    "You stay right there, Francis. I'll be right back," Arthur promised. Then, he, too, ran out of the room.   
  
    A few minutes later, he came back, carrying a first-aid kit and a wet washcloth. Quickly, he sat back down on the bed next to Francis. Gently, Arthur raised Francis' right arm and began cleaning the blood off with the washcloth. Francis cringed as the warm water seeped into his cuts, but Arthur continued to clean. After he had cleaned the blood away, Arthur poured a disinfectant onto another washcloth and began cleaning Francis' cuts with that. Then, he did the same with the left arm. By the time he had finished, Alfred and Matthew had returned. Each of them was carrying a handful of different colored markers.  
  
    The boys climbed back onto the bed and sat on either side of Francis again. Arthur smiled and closed the first-aid kit before pushing it away. He watched happily as Matthew took one of Francis' arms, and Alfred took the other. Matthew uncapped a blue marker, and Alfred uncapped a red one. Each of the boys drew a large butterfly on Francis' arms, and then colored the butterflies in with the other colored markers. Francis looked at the butterflies curiously.  
  
    "What are you boys doing...?" he asked quietly, his voice finally returning to normal.  
  
    "We're drawing butterflies," Alfred answered simply.  
  
    "Yeah, look. That one's name is Alfie," Matthew said, pointing to the one that Alfred had drawn, "and this one's name is Mattie. We drew them so that you won't cut yourself again. If you cut yourself then the butterflies will die! You don't want to kill the butterflies, do you, Francis?" Matthew asked, looking up at Francis with his best puppy-face. Francis laughed softly and shook his head.  
  
    "No, I don't want to kill the butterflies," he answered.   
  
    Arthur picked up a green marker, uncapped it, and lifted Francis' right arm up. He drew a butterfly right next to Matthew's. He colored it in with a purple marker. "There, now you have another butterfly. That one's name is Arthur. Think of it this way, Francis. If you kill yourself or hurt yourself anymore, you'll be taking all of us with you. If you're hurting, then we'll be hurt, too. If you left us, our hearts would go with you. It's one for all and all for one. We're a family, and we always will be," he promised. Francis smiled and pulled all of his brothers into a tight hug.  
  
    " _Merci,_  my boys... A-and I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I promise, I won't do it again... I'll never leave you...  _Je t'aime..._ " he whispered to them.  
  
    "We love you, too, Francis," they all whispered back, and Francis finally believed that he was loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh this is an old piece that I've re-uploaded from my deviantART account, but this place needs a fic and since I don't have anything new to upload at the moment I decided to take my favorite fics from my dA account and upload them here. Depressed!Francis is a trope(? is that what I would call it?) often and this is one of my favorite works that I've done concerning him. The Butterfly Project is such a sweet idea to me and it holds a very great meaning to me. I wanted to show how I felt about it by writing a fic.


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